Saving Rachel
by pari106
Summary: Major AU of "The Berrisford Agenda". X5 494 makes a decision that saves one life and changes his own.**Updated: Chapter 5**
1. Default Chapter

Saving Rachel  
by pari106  
  
pari106@hotmail.com  
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html  
  
Disclaimer: No one belongs to me. This is for fun, not profit.  
Rating: PG-13   
Code: Alec/Rachel; MAJOR AU  
Warning: *HUGE* spoilers for episode 11. Stop reading *RIGHT NOW* if you don't do spoilers.  
  
Summary: X5 494 makes a decision that saves a life, and changes others…including his own.  
  
  
  
Author's Note: Once again, I apologize to all of you out there waiting for continuations of my other   
stories. What can I say? I haven't forgotten about them. But if inspiration has fled me on a certain   
storyline, I don't want to try and just fake my way through it. I never like my writing, any way. And when   
I write something while my heart really isn't into it… It isn't pretty.  
  
Anyhow, on the subject of this story… Please tell me what you think of it. Okay? I love the spoilers for   
this ep. I admit, it's kind of corny in a way… Alec and Rachel are one of those love stories you hear so   
often it's cliché. But I love it anyway. And I had to make up a few things I weren't sure about…like what   
Alec actually did to the car, and when all of this happened. I assume Alec and Rachel met relatively   
recently…like very shortly before Max and Logan met. The story begins the day of the assassination   
attempt, and goes off on a tangent from there. Feel free to ask questions if you have them. And review like   
mad!  
  
  
  
Saving Rachel  
by pari106  
  
  
Sitting there…on the edge of "Simon's" bed…staring into nothing… Sitting there, preparing to return to   
base…   
  
Sitting there…X5 494 hadn't known what he was about to do next.  
  
Surely, he couldn't have known. He certainly couldn't have anticipated that he would go AWOL. That he   
would throw away everything he'd ever fought for or believed in…all for a woman. A human woman. Not   
even that, really. A human *girl*. A human girl he'd fallen in love with…  
  
Surely, he couldn't have predicted his own, insane decision. The decision that would change both their   
lives forever.  
  
The decision to stay.  
  
To stay with her. To protect her. And to say to hell with Manticore and their goddamned propoganda   
about mission and duty and discipline. 494 had fought his entire life to be everything Manticore had made   
him. He'd had to work that much harder than all his peers to prove himself…to step out from under the   
shadow of his twin's failure. He'd been as disciplined as they came… But all that discipline had been   
nothing up against Rachel Beresford's innocent charm. He'd been a dutiful soldier. But no amount of   
pride in his duty could have kept Rachel out from under his skin. He'd been fully engaged in his   
mission…his mission to assassinate John Beresford. And his daughter, Rachel.  
  
But sitting there, on that bed, with memories of the words he and Rachel had spoken to one another last…  
  
He didn't know what he was going to do next. But he knew he couldn't leave her…not like this. Not even   
if it was his duty.   
  
In fact…he knew he couldn't leave. Period.  
  
Something was going to happen to Rachel if he did. He just knew it… Something awful. Even if she took   
his advice and got out of the way while her father was being murdered, 494 knew Rachel was going to get   
hurt. And he couldn't let that happen.  
  
He couldn't just go back to base as if nothing were going on. As if he hadn't possibly just ended the lives   
of two people… As if he hadn't just endangered the life of the woman he loved. As if he hadn't just   
broken her heart. Because he had. He'd hurt her with his words that afternoon, and if he left he was going   
to hurt her even more.  
  
494 couldn't just go back to base as if everything were alright. Because it wasn't. Nothing was alright.   
Nothing about the base was right, all of a sudden. None of the doctrine that seemed to make so much sense   
to him before, made any sense now. None of the things he'd believed in seemed worth believing. How   
could they? The people who he'd followed, who he'd trusted, who he'd fought for… Had calmly and   
coldly ordered him to murder an innocent young woman. For no other reason than it would be convenient   
to take her out at the same time as her father. And they'd threatened him…subtly, but surely…when he'd   
voiced even the mildest protest to that decision.  
  
He couldn't go back. And he couldn't leave Rachel. He just couldn't do it. He couldn't really say for sure   
if he "loved" her the way she said she loved him. He didn't know any more about that word now than he   
had the first time Rachel had introduced it to him. But he knew what he felt for Rachel… What he felt for   
her meant more to him than a lifetime of mission and duty and discipline. If what he felt for her wasn't   
love…it was still something just as important. Just as impossible to walk away from.   
  
What he felt for her was enough to make up for a lifetime of feeling nothing at all.   
  
And so, sitting there on his bed, 494… "Simon", as he'd been called these last few weeks…didn't know   
what he was going to do next…but he knew he had to do something.   
  
And when he finally left the room, he didn't leave to return to base. He left to find Rachel.   
  
And to make the most important decision of their lives. 


	2. Chapter 2

Saving Rachel  
by pari106  
  
Disclaimer, etc., found in chapter 1.  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
A few days later…  
  
Since the second I saw Rachel climb into that car…the car I had rigged with the bomb   
that could have killed her…I don't think I've breathed an easy breath.  
  
Until today.  
  
Today the papers covered the explosion.  
  
It was all over the headlines…the presumed deaths of heiress Rachel Berrisford, her   
chauffeur…and her music instructor. Simon Lehane.  
  
Me. Or, at least, the me I became for the sake of my mission. The real Simon died in his   
own home so that I could assume his identity and get close to the Berrisfords.   
  
But that's all behind me now. Because everyone thinks I'm dead. And Rachel, as well.   
Witnesses saw me jump into the Berrisford's limo just before it blew… They must not   
have seen me jump right back out the other side, with Rachel clutched in my arms. I   
suppose they had no reason not to assume we both died. I'm good with explosives, you   
know. There wasn't enough left of Rachel's limo for there to have been any bodies.  
  
Now they think we're dead, and today I can breath again. But not because of that.  
  
I know better than to hang my hopes on that. I know better than to let down my guard   
just because my counterpart's got his picture in the obituary. No body means nothing to   
Manticore. They're still out there…still looking for me, and Rachel. I can guarantee it.  
  
Today I can breath again because today Rachel woke up.  
  
  
  
**** ****  
  
  
  
I thought she was dead at first.  
  
When the bomb went off, we barely cleared the car. We landed behind some brush on   
the roadside, and rolled down a slope in the landscape. Then the blast of the explosion   
sent us rolling another good foot or two. It's a good thing I landed on top of Rachel.   
Otherwise, she would have absorbed most of the impact and the little bits of debris flying   
through the air. She wouldn't have survived.  
  
At first, I thought she hadn't survived anyhow. There was so much blood…  
  
She'd hit her head. Hard. And I've been fighting these last two days to keep the wound   
bandaged and clean; to stop the bleeding. I'm okay as far as field med. goes… But I'd   
have given anything to have been able to take her to a doctor. Not possible. Not with her   
face and my barcode. We can't go anywhere near a hospital or a police station. And I   
know absolutely squat about head injuries. She broke a couple of ribs, too, and I can only   
hope I set them right. When we hit the ground that day of the explosion, she'd just   
seemed to crumple in my arms. Like a doll some kid had thrown too hard…  
  
And I thought she was dead.  
  
I don't know what it was I felt then. Something…painful. In my chest. And a   
constriction on my lungs. Those first few moments after we landed, before I was able to   
locate the pulse beating softly beneath her lovely skin… I couldn't breath. And my   
vision was starting to blur, the longer I searched for a heartbeat and couldn't find one. I   
thought I must have been injured in the fall in some way I couldn't identify right away.   
But now I'm not sure…  
  
All I know is, for the most part, the pain went away when I finally determined that   
Rachel hadn't died after all. And whatever it was that was wrong with me could have   
been our undoing… I wasted good time, just sitting there with Rachel's unconscious   
form wrapped up in my arms, breathing in the scent of her hair… Rocking her. I still   
don't know why. But luckily I managed to shrug the disturbing sensation away, and was   
able to drag myself and Rachel to safety. Some place we could hide and heal – the back   
yard of a nearby home whose owners I knew were away on vacation. I'd made a point,   
when I began my mission at the Berrisfords, to know things like that.  
  
Then, after doing my best to stop the bleeding from Rachel's head wound, I passed out.   
I'm X5, not human. But X5s can get hurt, too. I hadn't even realized that I had been, I'd   
been so caught up in protecting Rachel. But I'd broken my left leg, and dislocated my   
shoulder, trying to land in a way that wouldn't crush my human companion beneath me.   
So as soon as we were both out of danger, my body just shut down…those handy X5   
regenerative capabilities kicking into overtime.  
  
When I woke, I broke into the house we were hiding out behind, and carried Rachel in so   
that we could both get cleaned up, and I could find something to use as a decent bandage   
for her head. She didn't wake up this entire time. And she hadn't stirred once while I   
was unconscious, I could tell.   
  
That scared me.  
  
Maybe I might find that amusing if it wasn't so goddamned disturbing… But it scared   
me. I don't feel fear, you know. At least…I never have before. Not for anything outside   
the Psy. Obs. labs back at Manticore. And how scary is a little human woman compared   
to that?  
  
Plenty. Rachel was hurt… I'd done everything I could to protect her, and she'd still   
gotten hurt. And there wasn't shit I knew how to do about it. I've never been so scared   
in all my life. And I was starting to think that maybe I'd hit myself on the head, as well.   
Because there was a lot that had to be done… I had to get me and Rachel into some   
cleaner clothes. Had to… uh, "procure" some supplies. Food, bandages, money. And a   
car. Then I had to get us the hell out of there before Manticore came to investigate why   
the perfect plan their perfect soldier had been sent to carry out had gone so terribly   
wrong. I had to do all that as fast as possible, on a leg whose bones were still re-knitting,   
and all I could think about was Rachel.   
  
I probably would have driven myself crazy with those strange thoughts, too, but luckily I   
didn't have time. I had the both of us cleaned, changed, bandaged and ready to go as fast   
as I could manage. Then I headed out of town as fast as my stolen means of   
transportation could handle.   
  
I ditched the car the first chance I got. But first I took Rachel to this seedy little hotel   
outside of town, some place no one would look twice at a guy carrying an unconscious   
girl into his room. I hated to take her here… Someone like her, to a place like this. I've   
always counted myself lucky to have grown up inside of Manticore, clean and safe and   
healthy…instead of out here amongst the filthy masses. I think Rachel grew up with that   
privilege, as well. Only her safe haven was the Berrisford estate, rather than a military   
installation.   
  
Some haven either one of those places turned out to be, huh?  
  
So the seedy little motel would have to do. And somehow… I didn't think Rachel would   
really mind. I put her in the room while I took care of the car. She was still out. That's   
how she remained…until today.  
  
Now I feel like these last three days I've been operating on adrenaline alone.  
  
Now my only problem is…what I tell Rachel when she's lucid enough to talk.  
  
What do you say to someone you very nearly killed? Someone who's father you'd been   
sent to assassinate. Someone who'd trusted you…let you in… Someone you'd hurt.  
  
What do you say to someone you love when you're sorry? I've never known love or   
regret, so I really don't know.  
  
I guess I'll have to learn.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Okay…how was that? How's my Alec characterization? I figure he'd be a little   
different if things went differently with Rachel than they did the first time around…since   
that incidence obviously had a huge effect on him. But I didn't want to make him seem   
too different. Know what I mean? Just please review! Thanks! 


	3. Chapter 3

Saving Rachel  
by pari106  
  
Disclaimer, etc, found in Chapter 1.  
  
  
  
Chapter 3  
  
The last thing Rachel remembered, before memory left her with just a void, was fire. The   
fire that engulfed the car, when it exploded near her. But, also, the fire that seemed to   
engulf her, as well, when her head hit that rock, and her whole body exploded in pain.   
  
She didn't remember anything other than that. Didn't remember rolling down that hill.   
Couldn't remember whether she screamed, or cried, or made no sound at all as her and   
Simon's bodies were thrown by the impact of the explosion.   
  
She only remembered the fire. And Simon's body, wrapped around her own, his harsh   
breathing against her ear. The warmth of his nearness…the security of his arms… The   
fire…  
  
And then she remembered nothing. Before consciousness returned…she wouldn't even   
remember that.  
  
  
  
  
  
**** ****  
  
  
  
When reality returned, it did so slowly. Rachel drifted up towards the light and life she   
sensed beyond her eyelids, much like a swimmer drifts upwards towards the water's   
surface. And if swimming was what she'd been doing, then Rachel much have been   
swimming with her limbs weighted. Because her whole body felt heavy and sore…weak.   
It took an amazing amount of effort just to flutter an eyelash…and then an eyelid.  
  
And suddenly, Rachel's eyes were open and she was staring at the stained ceiling of a   
dingy little motel room. Trying to make sense of what she saw.  
  
Then she realized she was not alone. Because her view of the ceiling was replaced with a   
face. A face that made her breath catch in her throat, and a small gasp passed Rachel's   
lips.  
  
He was talking to her, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. The blood was racing   
through her veins so that she couldn't hear anything past the sound of its rushing in her   
ears. Beautiful blue eyes…sharp and filled with worry…were meeting her own, slightly   
blurred gaze.  
  
That's when she realized she'd begun to struggle.  
  
For some reason beyond herself, Rachel's arms and legs began to thrash seemingly on   
their own. It made no sense to her. The beautiful stranger standing over her didn't seem   
to represent any sort of threat. And Rachel's mind was still too weary to worry about that   
anyhow. But her body was reacting as though trying to fight the man away, even as his   
voice finally reached her ears, soothing and oddly familiar. He was holding her down as   
easily as though she were a small child. And his words began to register in her mind…  
  
"…chel? Honey, you've got to calm down. You're going to hurt yourself. Rachel…can   
you hear me?"  
  
Her last thoughts, before unconsciousness returned to take her once again…were:  
  
Who's Rachel?  
  
And who was the young man standing at her bedside, calling Rachel's name? 


	4. Chapter 4

Saving Rachel  
by pari106  
  
Disclaimer, etc., in chapter 1.  
  
A/N: Yeah, this ep is almost here! :) I can't wait. I hope I did okay with this. I'm clueless about amnesia   
and anything like that, so hopefully I can do Rachel's condition, and her recovery throughout these next   
chapters, justice. Please let me know how I'm doing. And just so you know, from this chapter on I will   
refer to "Alec" by another name. Basically because I couldn't think of a way of giving him the name Alec   
that made sense. I'll also occasionally refer to him as 494, though, so you shouldn't get too lost. If you   
have any ideas on how I can get his name back to what it is on the show, let me know. Or should I just go   
on the way I am? Review, people! And let me know :) And thanks to those of you who have been   
reviewing all this time. Now on with the next chapter…  
  
  
  
Chapter Four…  
  
  
  
"Simon…do you love me?"  
  
Even in his dreams, 494 could feel the uncertainty and the anxiety those words had put in him the first time   
they'd been spoken. He was dreaming now, he knew. But that didn't seem to matter at the moment. At   
the moment, he wasn't lying in some dirty motel room somewhere, next to Rachel's battered body. At the   
moment, he was standing in the Berrisford mansion, and Rachel was standing before him. Just as beautiful   
and unbroken as she'd ever been, looking up at him with hope and love, and just a tiny trace of fear, in her   
eyes.  
  
And, dreaming or not, that was where 494 wanted to be.  
  
"Simon, do you love me?"  
  
Simple little words from a tiny little human. 494 had faced tougher questions in his time, but none that had   
ever left his mouth dry or his hands shaking as Rachel's simple inquiry had done. None that had been able   
to shake his dedication to his mission or to Manticore. But Rachel's question had. Otherwise, he would   
have given her the answer most beneficial to his cause. He would have smiled…seductive, assuring. He   
would have spouted off a lot of pretty words that wouldn't have meant anything, but would have wooed the   
Berrisford heir that little bit more.   
  
He hadn't done that. He hadn't even thought of it. All that had been on his mind was her…those eyes, that   
face. And that funny feeling, deep in his stomach, that he'd never felt before. That funny warmth that   
seemed to spread throughout his entire body whenever Rachel was near.  
  
He hadn't spouted off a lot of pretty words. He hadn't been seductive or particularly assuring, he imagined.   
He'd just been honest. He'd felt like an idiot, and an asshole, for not being able to give the words Rachel   
wanted as easily as she had given them to him. But he'd been honest. And Rachel hadn't called him either   
an idiot or an asshole.  
  
"I don't know," he'd told her. "I just know I've never felt like this before."  
  
"Have you ever been in love?" Rachel had asked. Now, as 494 dreamed, she asked it again. "Simon, do   
you love me?"  
  
Uncertainty…anxiety…  
  
And then they weren't standing there anymore. They were in Rachel's bedroom…and she was lying there   
in bed. A vision of long, black hair, flowing loosely around her…blue eyes and soft skin glowing in the   
moonlight. White silk all around her, the fabric of her bedsheets and that tiny little gown she was wearing.   
494 was standing by her bedside, the curtains of the window he'd just entered blowing in the breeze   
coming in from behind him. Rachel sat up in bed, seeing him, and she didn't say a word. Just smiled. She   
smiled…and held her arms out to him. 494 silently closed the window behind him.  
  
He was beside her in a moment…wrapped up in her, and she in him. And suddenly the uncertainty and the   
anxiety felt a million miles away from where they were. Suddenly he felt a million miles away from who   
he was and what he was. Suddenly…he was able to give the words he'd never given or received before.  
  
"I love you." Quick, quiet…no more than a breath against Rachel's lips before he crushed them beneath   
his own. But it was enough…the words were enough to bring a smile to her lovely face before his kiss   
captured it.   
  
And then the dream ended the way it always did.  
  
With him pulling back to find that the Rachel lying in his arms was not as before.  
  
They were still in her bed…she was still wrapped in silk and innocence… But now she was also covered in   
blood. And staring up at him through tears and fear and confusion.  
  
No matter how many times he dreamt it, that image always had the power to rob his breath.   
  
"I thought you cared about us," she always cried out in his dreams, voice shaking with pain and   
encroaching death. "How could you do this?"  
  
…how could you do this…how could you do this…  
  
"How could you hurt me, Simon?"  
  
494 was dreaming. Just as he had dreamt many times since the explosion as he had cared for Rachel and   
watched over her. But at the moment he awoke, that didn't matter. 494 shot up in bed, breathing heavily   
and sweating profusely… The same, sharp ache in the pit of his stomach that had been there the first time   
he'd broken Rachel's innocent heart. The words she'd spoken, once, even if they'd only been repeated in   
his dreams, effecting him as strongly as a physical blow.  
  
…how could you…how could you…I love you, Simon…I loved you…  
  
The words repeated in his head, even as the motel room he'd fallen asleep in came into focus before his   
eyes.  
  
And then something else met his eyes, as well. The sight of Rachel, there beside him. And she wasn't   
asleep.  
  
"Rachel…"  
  
Still breathless from his dream, 494 tried to gain control of himself; tried to regain composure. He calmed   
his breathing and ran a hand through his disheveled hair as he turned to her. She was awake again… Like   
before. Only this time she was only lying there quietly, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. And   
relief, but also anxiety flooded him. He was happy she was awake. More relieved than he could say that   
she seemed to be recovering. But afraid that she would react, this time, the same way that she had the last.   
By fighting him.  
  
'What do you expect, soldier?' He had to ask himself, swallowing a strange thickness that had suddenly   
developed in his throat. 'She knows what you are. What you do. Of course she will fight to be away from   
you.'  
  
But then 494 remembered…she didn't know what he was, or what he'd done. Not anymore. The   
"struggle", if you could call it that, that had ensued the last time Rachel had awaken had occurred only   
because of gut reflex. She didn't have any actual memories to back up her instinct to fight him. He knew   
because he'd heard her…speaking so softly no one but a transgenic would have made out the words…   
He'd heard her ask "Who's Rachel?"  
  
She'd lost her memory.  
  
Whether temporarily or permanently, he couldn't know. Not yet. But her question had frozen his heart   
when she'd asked it. It made him nervous now. It had already been established that, while acceptably   
skilled in the duties of a field med, 494 had no experience with head trauma. Or amnesia. If there was   
something wrong with Rachel, he had no idea how to help her.  
  
So he did the only thing he did know to do, albeit not very well. Manticore never taught its soldiers how to   
comfort or care for others, but 494 thought he'd learned a thing or two from Rachel. About the caring,   
anyhow. He'd never felt such concern and responsibility over another living being in his entire life. And   
he put that emotion into his eyes and his expression as he reached out to her, hoping the sincerity of his   
feelings for her would make up for whatever else he might do or say wrong trying to comfort her.  
  
"Rachel?" he asked, gently brushing a few stray curls off of her cheek. It felt good to touch her…though   
for strictly sentimental reasons, not sexual. He made himself smile for her, even though there was still that   
odd swelling in his throat. "Can you hear me?"  
  
Rachel lay there for a moment. That's all she'd been doing since she'd woken up…who knew how long   
ago. She just lay there…drifting in and out of consciousness, and trying to focus while doing the former.   
After a while, she'd finally managed to keep her eyes open, if parted slightly. And after a while more she'd   
been able to take in her surroundings.  
  
Or, at least, what she could see of them. Her vision was still a little blurry around the edges, and her head   
hurt. But she could make out four walls…two doors. A couple of windows, both heavily draped. She was   
lying in bed, and the ceiling above her was unattractive.   
  
Funny she would think of that at a time when she had so much more to worry about than the aesthetics of   
the shelter over her head. She didn't even know her name…where she was or how she'd gotten there. And   
her first observation was that the tiles above her needed a new scrubbing. Perhaps whatever had taken   
away her memory had removed her sense, as well. Those tiles were damned ugly, though.  
  
A very stark contrast…to the man lying beside her.  
  
It was several moments more before Rachel even realized there was someone beside her… But once she   
had, she couldn't take her eyes off of him. She no more knew who he was, than she knew herself. But she   
felt a shiver run through her entire body at the sight of him. And it wasn't an unpleasant shiver at all. It   
was awareness… She knew that much, although she didn't understand how she could feel any sort of   
awareness towards someone when she didn't even recall his name. He was familiar, though, that was   
certain.  
  
And he was absolutely gorgeous. He looked young…sleeping there, next to her in bed. He was lying on   
his back, with his hands folded on top of his chest. And his expression was troubled even though he was   
asleep, but his features were too boyish to be haggard.   
  
Who was he? She asked herself, looking at him. What were they doing together, in this place? How had   
they gotten there, and why couldn't she remember anything?   
  
The questions tumbled through Rachel's clouded mind, one on top of the other, increasing the intensity of   
her already pounding headache. The pain…and the fear and uncertainty of her situation, almost   
overwhelmed her, making her want to cry. To close her eyes and go back to sleep and hope everything was   
alright when she woke up the next time. But she didn't dare… She was too afraid that, next time,   
everything would only be that much worse. That she would forget again even what few thoughts she'd   
managed to form while she was awake now.   
  
So she forced her eyes to stay open, and her mind not to focus on the pain splitting her head. She still felt   
too weak to move, so she couldn't even put a hand to her brow to check if those were bandages she felt   
against her skin. She was pretty sure they were, though. And that realization scared her only that much   
more. Something had happened to her… She'd been hurt somehow…or something. That was why she   
was bandaged; why she couldn't remember anything. Couldn't remember who or what had hurt her and   
why. The fear made her want to cuddle up to the familiar stranger at her side, and a part of her longed to   
do just that. But another part of her told her to stay away. Why did she have such conflicting emotions   
about this man? She felt like running from him, and reaching out for him, at the same time.  
  
Before she had the chance to do either…he moved.  
  
If she'd had the strength for it, Rachel would have gasped. One minute the man was simply lying   
there…the next he was sitting up as though shot. Breathing raggedly and gripping the sheets beneath him.   
As it was…she could only lie there and wonder what could have possibly awaken him so abruptly. She   
hadn't made a sound… So it would have had to have been a dream that roused him. Or a nightmare.  
  
And then…he was looking at her.  
  
"Rachel…"  
  
That name… With a jolt, Rachel realized she had heard that name before. Where? She couldn't   
remember, and she frowned at the effort. Rachel… It was familiar, though. It felt so familiar. Was it her   
name? He was looking at her…reaching out to her, a dozen emotions playing across his handsome face.   
His fingers brushed her cheek as he gently pushed her hair away from her face, and Rachel felt a charge at   
his touch.   
  
"Rachel? Can you hear me?"  
  
His voice was nice. Another absurd observation, but a true one. Rachel tried to nod her head, to tell him   
that she had heard, but the motion caused a stab of pain to rip through her, and she cried out when it did.  
  
"It's okay! Hold still," she heard the man telling her, as if from far away. She felt the bed move as he rose,   
but all she could concentrate on was willing away the pain that had once again washed over her.   
  
When she was able to open her eyes again, she saw that he was sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. A   
glass of water and a small vile of pills in his hand.  
  
494 shook a couple of the pain pills into the palm of his hand, glad that he had thought to take them from   
that neighbor's home when they had left Rachel's neighborhood. Then he turned to her, seeing that her   
eyes were finally open again, though now brimmed with tears.  
  
"Here, take these," he told her gently, bringing the pills to her mouth; thankful that she could understand   
him and was cooperating when she parted her lips for him. He helped her take the pain pills and sip down a   
little of the water, then set the glass and vile aside.   
  
"Better?" he asked, not able to resist reaching out and stroking her cheek, once more as he had before. It   
was odd for him…this sudden need for physical contact. Back at Manticore…or on his missions…he'd   
never felt this compulsion before. He'd never been taught that you could touch someone for a purpose   
other than battle or seduction. But he suddenly needed to touch Rachel; to reassure himself, time and time   
again that she was really there and that she was alive. He suddenly craved her touch…needing the   
reassurance that she did not hate him or fear him. But he knew that would be asking too much. He   
deserved her hatred and her fear. And at the moment he would gladly accept both, just as long as she   
stayed with him and her pain stayed away.  
  
Rachel didn't try to nod again. Instead she spoke, her sweet voice rough with disuse and fatigue. "Yes…"  
  
494 eyes fluttered briefly in relief. Then Rachel's next question stilled him.  
  
"Am I Rachel?"  
  
494 stared at her, her words digging into him. But he gave her another tender smile with some effort. He   
stroked her hair.  
  
"Yeah…yeah, sweetheart, you are. Rachel Berrisford." What a beautiful name… 494 silently pleaded   
with fate to make her amnesia temporary. She had such a beautiful name…such a beautiful personality…   
Those things couldn't have been taken from her for good. They just couldn't. Not while he, with his cold   
three-number designation, and his dark past, could remember every miserable moment of his cursed   
existence.  
  
Rachel accepted the information, her eyes slowly closing for a moment, as well. When she opened them   
again, a single tear fell down her cheek. Her name. At least now she had her name.   
  
"You?" she forced past the thickness in her throat.  
  
494 hesitated. His name…that's what she was asking. What name could he give her?  
  
Simon Lehane was the name she knew him by…but it wasn't truly his. And 494 didn't suppose it made   
any sense keeping up that pretense now. After all that had happened. But "Simon" would work as well as   
any other name, he supposed. Or he could simply give her his designation…but that didn't make much   
sense either. Rachel was still weak from her injuries; exhausted and pained. She wanted a simple answer   
to her question. Not a drawn out explanation of why he had a number but no name.   
  
But would telling her his name was Simon trigger her memories? Did he want to trigger her memories?  
  
494 had thought of little else ever since Rachel woke up the first time, and revealed that she had lost her   
memory. He hoped that her amnesia was temporary, and he didn't want to do anything to interfere with her   
regaining her memories. Nor did he want to deceive her any more than he had in the past. Rachel had   
never deserved that, and yet he'd deceived her from the moment they met.   
  
But he also didn't want to upset her while she was still so weak. Her amnesia could have been caused by   
head trauma…but it also could have occurred for psychological reasons. Rachel had gone through a lot.   
He'd been her first lover. According to her…her first love. And he'd broken her heart. Then she'd learned   
the truth about her father…his secret criminal life…and she learned that there was a price on his head. And   
then there'd been the explosion. Her amnesia could be a result of stress; her mind's way of protecting itself   
by forgetting things she can't handle remembering in her current state. If that were true, telling Rachel the   
truth about himself…helping her remember the truth about what happened…could do her more harm than   
good.   
  
494 had entertained these thoughts for hours, and he did so again now as Rachel awaited his response.   
What name should he give her?  
  
Not Simon, he suddenly decided. He wouldn't give her that name. And he wouldn't tell her that he'd ever   
used it. Or why he'd had to use it in the first place. That would come later. And she would probably hate   
him for lying by omission. But once she remembered, 494 assumed Rachel would hate him anyhow, so it   
didn't really matter. He didn't want to risk hurting her any more by triggering her memories before she   
was ready to handle them. And he didn't want her fighting him, fearing him, while she still needed him to   
take care of her.   
  
Whatever other reasons he may have had for wanting to shield Rachel, to shield himself, from the truth…he   
stubbornly ignored.  
  
"Sebastian," he told her, off the top of his head. Rachel had once told him one of her favorite composers   
was named Sebastian.   
  
"Sebastian," she repeated. And, whether that was actually his name or not, 494 felt warmed by having   
heard her say it. Because regardless of who's name it was, Rachel was using it in reference to him. And   
smiling. It was the slightest of smiles, but it was still a smile. And 494 released the breath he hadn't   
realized he'd been holding.  
  
"Sebastian," she said once more, her eyes getting droopy now. "Rachel…" It was as if she were trying to   
memorize the names. She undoubtedly was.  
  
494 stroked her cheek again. "It's okay, Rachel. Go to sleep. We'll talk again when you wake up."  
  
Rachel barely heard his words, but she'd almost been asleep when he'd spoken anyhow. Her eyes fluttered   
closed on their own accord, and her face relaxed. In moments, she was asleep again.   
  
And "Sebastian" sat right there watching her the entire time. 


	5. Chapter 5

Saving Rachel  
by pari106  
  
Disclaimer, etc., in chapter 1.  
  
A/n: Thanks once more to everyone who's reviewed. :) I really appreciate your comments.   
  
A/A/N: I know it's been a while since this was updated… And just as long since TBA aired. I hope there   
are still people reading this. And I hope the time span between the events of chapter 4 and this chapter is   
appropriate. I want to get Rachel back on her feet quickly so some real action can occur (though God only   
knows when I'll actually write it :P Anyhow… As always, I crave feedback.  
  
Yet another author's note… Thanks to whoever it was who told be the name "Sebastian" reminded them of   
a cat ;) It probably wasn't meant as a good thing… But I'd intended on shortening Sebastian down to   
"Ian" anyhow, and that comment gave me an idea for the conversation that will do that (in the next chapter   
or so).  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Five…  
  
  
"Sebastian…So you're mother named you after a famous composer, hmm?" Rachel smiled and raised an   
eyebrow. "And you don't even play? That's ironic."  
  
494 smiled, too, though the gesture was strained. They were back on the topic of his name again. It was   
one Rachel returned to often, since it -–and the rest of his fabricated identity – was the only topic   
"Sebastian" would discuss at length.  
  
He hated keeping things from her. He hated the frustration that put a frown on Rachel's lovely face each   
time she sought for her lost memory and failed. But he still wasn't sure Rachel could handle the truth if she   
actually found it, or if he actually gave it to her. So he tried to avoid discussing her past as much as   
possible. Instead, he told her the little things about herself that he knew had a lesser chance of triggering   
her memory. Things like her favorite color or her favorite sonnet. The few things he'd been able to learn   
about her in the short time they'd known one another. And whenever 494 found himself unable to sidestep   
Rachel's questions about anything he couldn't possibly answer…he lied.   
  
"Sebastian" hated lying to Rachel even more than he hated keeping things from her. And every day the   
deception just seemed to grow and grow; the stories just seemed to pile up on top of one another. So he'd   
finally told her that he really didn't know all that much about her past because they hadn't known one   
another long. It was a lame excuse and a suspicious one, but luckily Rachel hadn't questioned it. Yet.  
  
She would soon, he knew. Rachel was recovering a little more every moment; regaining a little bit more of   
her strength every day. She could even get out of bed now and make it around their tiny hotel room by   
herself. During this conversation, they were both sitting at the room's small table, eating dinner. And it   
had been a long time since 494 had heard Rachel laugh, or seen her smile, without those gestures being   
accompanied by the pain they caused her healing ribs.  
  
He'd never wanted anything so badly as to see Rachel recover. And he was glad for it – even if her   
recovery would soon put him in the impossible position of trying to make some sense of the stories he'd   
been telling her. He'd missed Rachel's voice during the first weeks following the explosion. He still   
missed it, whenever she was asleep or during the rare occasions he could tear himself away from her to go   
buy food or supplies. Sometimes…he almost swore he missed her in his sleep. It was madness. But he   
was glad for it. Rachel had become his whole world.  
  
Sebastian shrugged. "I was never any good at it," he lied.   
  
"Your mother must have been disappointed, being a pianist herself."  
  
494 smiled again, this time sincerely, if not with a sardonic twist. "You have no idea," he said quietly. He   
was thinking about Director Renfro back at Manticore. She was probably the closest thing he had to a   
"mother". After all, she was in charge of the institution that had housed him, fed him, clothed him all his   
life… That was basically what a mother was, wasn't it? Without the guards and the psyche testing, that is.  
  
Rachel saw the look on Sebastian's face and suddenly realized what she'd said. She remembered how he'd   
told her, the first time she'd asked about his family, that he had none. Later he'd admitted that he'd been   
orphaned when he was very young.   
  
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, reaching out and taking his hand where it lay on the table. "I didn't…"  
  
"Nah, it's alright," he reassured her. "Me and 'mom' weren't very close, anyhow."  
  
'I'd rather get close to a Cobra,' 494 thought wryly. 'They're probably less venomous.'  
  
Then he saw the confusion on Rachel's face and changed the subject.  
  
"Aren't you hungry? You aren't eating."  
  
Rachel looked down at the take-out before her. "No, I am. I just…" She looked up and when her eyes met   
Sebastian's he felt himself go still. There was so much sadness in her gaze.  
  
"I wish I could remember my mother," she said, then smiled weakly. "Or my father, for that matter."  
  
"Hey…"  
  
494 came around the table when he saw the tears welling up in Rachel's eyes once again, and knelt before   
her, taking her hands in his.  
  
"It's alright," he consoled. Thinking that he was the lowest possible life form on that planet. Knowing that   
Rachel was hurting and that he was telling her it would be okay although he'd been the one to hurt her in   
the first place.  
  
Rachel bit her lip and nodded, trying to reign all the emotions back in. Trying not to give into her sorrow   
and, particularly, her anger. Anger at the world. At fate. All her life she'd been given anything she'd   
wanted… Sebastian had told her how she'd grown up in a wealthy household. But the one thing she'd   
really wanted – love, affection – from her businessman father, was the one thing he couldn't give. Then   
she'd found that with Sebastian. And almost as soon as she had, this had to happen to her. Amnesia.   
Robbing her of the memories she'd waited her entire life to build with someone as she had with Sebastian   
before the accident had made her forget. Before her father had made her forget.  
  
"Or maybe not," she said then, on second thought.  
  
Sebastian watched the expression that suddenly stole over Rachel's face and realized what she was   
thinking.  
  
"Uh…" He hadn't meant to tell her the things that he had; the version of the accident that he'd created for   
her. But he'd been panicked at the time, and he'd told her the first explanation that had come to his head.   
  
"I mean, after all my father's done…" Rachel squeezed Sebastian's hands in her own, then reached up to   
touch his face.  
  
That tiny bit of contact sent a charge shooting through 494 that he'd never felt before having met Rachel.   
Now he didn't seem able to be in the same room with her without feeling it. And whatever he'd been about   
to say died on his lips. Their eyes locked…  
  
And then "Sebastian" tore himself away.  
  
"Um…I guess we should eat, huh? Build your strength back up."  
  
And his own. Because he was beginning to feel very weak where Rachel Berrisford was concerned. 


End file.
